Strip Club
by Xenitha
Summary: Three Tracy brothers, Scott, Gordon and Virgil visit a strip club on a hot day. one shot ..To the TIWF-this is what happens when you encourage me. Also my thanks to my husband  who had a misspent youth  for offering to personally research the topic.


Before they even entered the door, Scott knew it was a bad idea, but it was a hot day in Sacramento, California and they all wanted nothing more than a cold beer. When he'd been stationed at Travis Air Force Base, Centerfolds had been the place to go. He'd made the mistake of telling his brothers about it. So, after International Rescue had pulled three miners out of a collapsed gold mine near Auburn, Gordon had been the first to start trouble.

"Hey Scott," Gordon's grimy face had come over the communicator. "We're near Sacramento, aren't we?"

"Yeah," Scott had answered cautiously. You never knew what was coming when Gordon had that look on his face.

Gordon was pulled out of view and Virgil's face appeared on screen. "You always said there was a place in Sacramento that had the best beer.."

Scott heard Gordon's voice from off-screen. "..And girls! Don't forget the girls!"

"Yeah, and girls," Virgil continued. "on the West Coast. How about we go there and cool off after that rescue?" He was pushed aside and Gordon's face filled the screen again. "How 'bout it, Scott?" Gordon asked eagerly.

Their thirty-somethingish brother scrubbed his face with his hands. All he wanted was a quiet drink by the pool and a cool breeze, both of which were obtainable at home. He had a girlfriend on the mainland, thanks, and wasn't particularly interested in strippers right now. He looked up again to see Virgil and Gordon both squashed together on the screen, looking at him pleadingly.

"Okay. All right," he sighed. "We'll hike into town and pick up a rental car. I remember where the place is. I'll report in to Dad that we're going out but NOBODY tells Dad where we're going!"

"Why not?" Virgil asked, taking in Scott's stubborn expression.

"Never mind why," Scott said. "Meet me at Thunderbird One's hatch and we'll get going."

The three, dressed in jeans and t-shirts, made it to Auburn, rented a car from the only lot in town and drove into Sacramento just as the sun was setting. They were grateful, because it had been a hundred four degrees Fahrenheit that day and they'd all been quietly roasting in their long-sleeved uniforms. Virgil turned the car air conditioning up to 'blast-chill' and all three basked in the cold air.

Somewhere along old Highway 80, they found a seedy-looking building surrounded by dusty, weed-clogged vacant lots. The parking lot was almost full and Scott parked in the last row.

After Virgil and Gordon had climbed out of the car, Scott stopped them. "Okay, ground rules. First: Nobody gets so drunk that you throw up in the rental car. Second: If you spend the night with somebody, you know the rules." He watched his brothers roll their eyes.

"Scott, what now? You gonna explain the birds and the bees to us again?" Gordon asked scornfully. "Let's just go in, okay?"

Scott just glared until both brothers subsided. "Three," he held up three fingers. "Don't start fights or do anything that draws the police. We're tabloid fodder, unless you've forgotten and Dad will kill us if we make the National Enquirer."

"You mean, Dad will kill YOU if you make the Enquirer. Again," Virgil said smugly. "Now I remember about this place. Dad would never talk about it and neither would you. So what actually happened?"

"We agreed not to talk about that, Virg," Scott replied and began to shoo his brothers toward the building.

"What do you mean, again?" Gordon asked as Scott chivvied him toward the building. "What does he mean, again, Virgil? When did this happen?"

Virgil just smiled and said nothing.

The club was dark and cool after the blazing parking lot and all three heaved sighs of relief. They scanned in their ID's and the hostess' eyebrows lifted. After a moment's wait, she showed them through a packed room, set up like a theater in the round, to the VIP section directly in front of the main stage, then disappeared. All three brothers sat and enjoyed the cool air when the waitress came by.

"May I take your…Scott?" she squealed. "Scott Tracy! It's been ages; I haven't seen you since…uh…you know... What have you been up to?"

Scott looked up at her, gap-jawed, then his eyes focused. "Elaine? You're still here? I thought you'd be running the place by now."

She gave him a beaming smile. "I'm not, but Mandy is. I'll tell her you're here. Be back in a moment!" She leaned in and dropped a leisurely kiss on his lips, then floated away.

Gordon and Virgil sat watching, eyes wide. "Okay, Scott," Virgil finally asked. "Just who was that?"

"Oh, uh…that was Elaine…"Scott said dreamily. "She's really good…waitress. She's a really good waitress." He finished and rubbed the lipstick off his lips.

"Uh huh," Gordon said. "And what is this 'you know' she was talking about?"

"Oh look!" Scott answered, pointing. "There's Mandy! She used to be one of the best dancers here." He stood up and held his arms out. Mandy, an exquisitely beautiful brunette walked into his arms and gave him a deep, long, throaty kiss. When they came up for air, Scott was panting and Mandy looked pleased.

"So, Scott, you've decided to come back after all," she purred.

"M…Mandy," Scott gulped, catching his breath. "Elaine says you're running the place now."

Mandy draped herself over one of the chairs, her long legs crossed at the ankles, displaying red stiletto heels. "I should be. After that little adventure the last time you were here, Bernie decided to cut his losses and sell out. I was in a position to buy, so I own the place now." She leaned back in the chair. "You're lucky I even let you in the door."

Scott blushed. "Aw, c'mon, I paid for the damage…and none of the girls had any complaints…"

Both Virgil and Gordon sat, drinking in the conversation. "Dad never told me much about this," Virgil said. "Please, go on Mandy" he said with a big grin.

"Oh!" Mandy said, holding a hand over her mouth. "I forgot about the non-disclosure agreement. Oops, I shouldn't have said anything. Forget I said anything. But in any case," she leaned in toward Scott again, her cleavage parting suggestively. "I don't hold the past against you, Scott. You guys enjoy yourselves." She got up. "And Scott," she twinkled. "Let me know if you'd like some company tonight. Here's my card," she reached into her pocket and gave Scott a small piece of pasteboard. "Call me." She ambled back to the rear of the club. All three brothers leaned to the left to watch her go and craned their necks as she passed out of sight.

Soon the waitress reappeared to take their drink orders. Scott felt a distinct need to cool off and ordered beer. Virgil wanted something more than beer, so he ordered a whiskey sour. Gordon grinned and ordered a magnum of the best champagne, ignoring his big brother's glare. "Hey," Gordon said. "I'm tired, hot and I deserve it. I can afford it! I'll share with you guys, too."

A skimpily dressed redhead slinked by and sat down at their table. "You must be Scott," she breathed, eyeing him up and down, eyes pausing at his crotch. "I've heard stories about you."

"Uh, don't believe everything you hear," Scott said. "By the way, these are my brothers, Virgil and Gordon."

"Brothers! That's great," her smile was so brilliant, that both Tracys found themselves breathless. "Any relative of Scott's is a friend of mine. Hey, you've got red hair too! Lookin' good." She moved over to Gordon, who was holding a fifty and began to dance seductively. "I'm Trish. You're Gordon? Or Virgil?"

"Oh, I'm Gordon, the smarter and better looking brother," Gordon smirked, tucking the bill into her bra. "So what are all these stories about Scott?"

"Let's not talk about Scott, tell me about you," she said, leaning in toward him. The drinks arrived and it was clear that Gordon had found a friend.

Scott was nursing his beer when another woman, a willowy blonde, began to dance in front of him. "Hi, I'm Jeri. Mandy said I should make sure you don't feel lonely, Scott. I've heard a lot about you. The back room still has your marks on the walls." She leaned in and began a lap dance.

"Um…Jeri, I'd rather not talk about the past," Scott replied, giver her a hundred and shooting a side glance at Gordon and Virgil, who were listening eagerly. "Wh..uh..um…Why don't you have some champagne with us?" Scott slid over and let Jeri sit next to him, then focused his attention on the pole dancer just starting. She was a stunning blonde with long curly hair and green eyes, wearing nothing more than a gold thong and pasties. She began to undulate around the pole in time to the booming music. Scott mused that she looked vaguely familiar and hoped that he hadn't rescued her at some time. Just as he had the thought, Virgil leaned in toward him and whispered in his ear, "I could swear I've seen that dancer somewhere before. Does she ring any bells with you? She's gorgeous."

"You mean, have we um…seen her in the family business?" Scott asked. "I don't think so, but I don't know why she's familiar either. Maybe I just saw her here."

"Yeah, but I know I didn't. I've never been here before. " Virgil watched her intently, then focused on a new girl who was wiggling her way over and beginning to dance. He pulled out his wallet and found a hundred, waving it at her. She brightened and moved in on him.

Half an hour later, the emcee, Mandy moved to the central stage area with a microphone. "Hello, are you all having a good time?" she asked and was answered by shouting and hooting from the packed room. "Great! Now, as you know, tonight's special event will be OIL WRESTLING!" She paused until the shouting and applause had died away. "Highest bidder gets the privilege of wrestling with two of our ladies in the oil pit!" She pointed to a child's inflatable pool filled with salad oil. Two women stood by, dressed in bikinis. One of them was the blonde pole dancer. "No touching the lady in her bikini area or our referees will intervene!" She pointed toward several burly bouncers in the wings. "Now, what am I bid?"

Virgil was digging into his wallet before her sentence was finished. Scott rolled his eyes and grabbed his hand. "Virg, you've got to be kidding!"

His eyes still fixed on the blonde, Virgil shrugged him off and finished his third (or was it fourth?) whiskey sour. "I'm off duty; you aren't my commander right now, just my brother. Leave me alone." The bid was up to three hundred dollars. Virgil jumped up and shouted, "One thousand dollars!" The room went silent, then it erupted with cheers and applause.

Mandy grinned and pointed. "We have a winner! That gentleman over in the VIP section!"

Scott held his hands over his face as they led Virgil away to change for the match. The club provided a pair of boxer shorts but otherwise the 'gentleman' was expected to strip for the match.

Gordon was hooting as Virgil was led out of the side room and toward the pool. Although a stocky man, he was as muscular as his brothers. He didn't bother working out to gain definition, but looked for strength since it would be most useful in his job. Without an ounce of fat, he moved confidently toward the pit.

Two smiling women awaited him and the match began. A smiling Virgil let himself be slid, throttled, rolled and pinned by the two women in the pit. Gordon ordered more champagne and led the cheering in their section.

The blonde, thoroughly coated with oil, climbed up Virgil's slippery body and planted a kiss on his smiling lips, then took a closer look at him. She sat upright, straddling him, both hands on his shoulders. "Virgil Tracy!" she yelled. "You bastard!"

Virgil's smile faded away when he heard her voice. "Francine? Francie Malloy?" A look of dismay crossed his face, to be replaced with anger. "Francie! You ditched me at the dance!"

Scott and Virgil, hearing this interplay over the roaring of the crowd, flinched in unison. "Francie," Scott said to Gordon. "Wasn't she the girl Virgil was dating in college?"

Gordon, fixated on the couple as though watching a train wreck, replied. "Yeah. She's the one who said she was working at the library….But she had brown hair and I don't remember her being that stacked…"

"Probably had some work done since then," Scott replied as the blonde began slapping Virgil furiously, screaming invectives at him. The bouncers started to move in; the second girl in the pit was already moving in on Virgil with blood in her eye.

"We gotta rescue him," Gordon gasped, putting the champagne down and pushing the girl off his lap. "What do we do, Scott?"

The two bouncers had gotten to the pit, followed by more of the girls. Virgil kept trying to get out but was slipping on the slick plastic. It didn't help that the blonde kept tugging him back by his boxers and hitting him when she caught him. Soon he was under a three girl pileup with the blonde still whaling at him with her fists. The bouncers piled into the pit and began grabbing for their hapless brother, throwing punches themselves.

"Okay," Scott said grimly, taking off his leather jacket and shoes. "Let's bring it!" He dove into the oily huddle of bodies and began trying to remove poor Virgil, buried on the bottom.

Gordon shrugged and followed. None of the brothers was certain who called the cops or when they arrived, but suddenly all the fighting stopped. Two burly men in blue extricated the Tracy brothers from under the pileup of bodies. They soon found themselves in the local drunk tank, being tested for intoxication. The smiling cops told them that they'd be the guests of the Sacramento County Jail for the night and was there anyone they wanted to call, like a bail bondsman.

"I'll do it," Scott got up creakily from the steel bench. "I better call Dad." Ten minutes later the jailor returned him to the cell. "He's not happy, but he'll send someone to bail us out." He slumped against the wall. "Virgil," asked Scott later, holding a wad of Kleenex to his bleeding nose. "Why did you decide to do that?"

"I dunno," Virgil answered, shivering. He still wore only the boxers he'd been provided with. "Do you think they'd give me a blanket if I asked nicely?"

Gordon groaned from the other bench. "Why is it that Francie hates you so much, Virg? I mean, she's a LIBRARIAN for god's sake."

Virgil closed both black eyes. "I don't want to talk about it, Gordy. Scott's not the only one allowed to keep secrets."

THE NEXT MORNING

Virgil had cadged his blanket and slept more or less peacefully on his bench, hair sticking up in oily spikes.

Scott was awake, barely, trying to convince himself that he wasn't going to die from the hangover. And Gordon, damn him, slept peacefully in his corner, although he looked considerably battered and worn.

"These the ones?" the jailor asked. A familiar voice rang through the tiny cell. "Yes, those are my brothers all right," John Tracy eyed each of them with a fine expression of irony. He was neatly dressed with a crisply ironed polo shirt, khaki slacks and boat shoes.

Scott pulled himself upright as the cell door was opened. He tried to help Virgil upright with a hand, but the residual oil slicked them right away from each other and Virgil landed back on the floor again with a thump. Finally, John borrowed some rubber gloves from the cop and heaved Virgil to his feet. Gordon, unaffected by the previous night's drinking, bounced upright with a cheerful grin.

"Hi John," he said in a chipper tone. "Dad send you to get us?"

John's lip curled as he took in the state of his brothers, especially Virgil, clad only in drooping boxers with a pair of black eyes and a greasy blanket. "Yeah, he wants you home before the tabloids hear about this."

"What about…" Scott eyed the guard. "The machines..you know.."

"Alan and Brains will pick them up later," John replied. "I'm flying you home. None of you look like you should be handling aircraft. Come on," he gestured for his brothers to follow and the three shambled after him to the front desk to sign release papers.

Jeff Tracy, alas, had been too late. They were faced with a gantlet of photographers and news reporters on their way to the car. (John had thoughtfully spread newspapers on the seats to save the rental upholstery.)

On the drive to the airport, John cast a sideways look at his eldest brother who was huddled in the front seat. "Dad told me about your last visit here. You know Scott, after what happened the last time you went to that strip club, you'd think you'd know better by now."


End file.
